Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Continuous Whining


This week is a repetition of last week. And the week before. A perpetual cycle of negation. As I have already mentioned, it keeps proving harder and harder to find an alternative voice, to sort out a different persona for narration of experience--one other than my own. That habitual, personal cliche. That well-worn complaint.


It all comes down to the fact I have fallen out of my usual writing patterns. My usual ebb and flow of words. Too many distractions. Conflictions and obstacles. Mixed emotions. The fan buzzes overhead--managing to shift my attention span, cause a broad range of sleepiness, soft drone of electricity. As a purring. A pulse. Or your fingers slipping across my shoulders.


Even the fragmented imagery fractures in furious, odd patterns, out of sync with my primary intentions. The rhythm I mean is breaking lines into irregular, nonsensical phrases that do not relate to one another directly.

End result: feel the need for insistent, continuous whining.

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